“Okay, Mr. Seagraves,” he said as he slid a business card from a thin golden case and handed it to me. “Let’s talk again soon. Together we can accomplish a lot, which could benefit your client in the long run.”
Agent Wolanski shook my hand and left my office. I could have told Wolanski about the gunman last night, but he had not given me any reason to trust him.
My work for the day was done for the most part. Hailey left the law office at five o’clock, and I was alone. I put the Dupree file and binder in an old leather briefcase that I probably should have replaced, but it still served its purpose and had been with me since the start of my legal career over a dozen years ago. Tossing it to one side would have made me feel guilty, like abandoning an old friend. With the Dupree hearing in the morning, I would not have minded talking with an old friend right now, but there was no one in Bridgeford I could call or meet. I walked down the silent corridors of my office, went into the kitchen, and brewed some Darjeeling tea. A mug of coffee would have kept me up late, and Hailey was right. I needed a good night’s sleep.
A soft knocking on the back door made me jump. Opening a kitchen drawer, I took out a carving knife that I concealed by my side as I approached the door. I slid the curtain barely an inch to see who had bypassed my front entrance and snuck around back.
Jennifer Rybak stood on the porch and smiled when she saw me at the window. I put the knife on the counter, unfastened the deadbolt, and let her inside. Jennifer’s blue-green eyes sparkled as she set two white plastic bags on the countertop. With a hint of embarrassment, she quickly smoothed and teased her blond hair, even though it looked stunning slightly windblown.
“Hey,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
She placed her soft hand on my arm, leaned forward, and kissed my cheek. “I wanted to drop by and see you. I’ve missed you since the weekend.”
A flush of warmth surged through my body. “Well, I’ve missed you, too. If I knew you were around, I would’ve prepared something, or maybe we could’ve gone out.”
She gently leaned her head to one side. “I tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail.”
“Oh,” I said, remembering how the gunman chucked my phone to the bottom of the Chesapeake Bay with the clams and the crabs. “I got a new phone today. Maybe I didn’t have it on me when you called. It’s here somewhere.”
“Want me to call again? You might hear it.”
“No, that’s all right. It’s probably still on my desk.”
Jennifer removed her jacket, revealing a tight purple cocktail dress that hugged the curves of her athletic body. Dark stockings covered her legs, and her shoes were black velvet stilettos that clacked as she crossed the kitchen. She grinned demurely, having caught me checking her out.
She opened a cabinet door, found some plates, and said, “I would have gone around front, but you probably wouldn’t have heard me. The office is closed. You’d be upstairs or back here. I hope you like Chinese take-out.”
“Yeah, sure, that’s great.” I opened the silverware drawer and collected some knives and forks.
“There’re chopsticks in the bags, if you’re up for the challenge.”
“Sure,” I replied. “Let’s do it right. Hey, this is nice. I’m glad you dropped by.”
Jennifer unpacked white boxes of Chinese food from the bags. “Well, I figured you were stuck doing routine legal work the last couple of days and needed a little surprise.”
22
Jennifer opened the white boxes of Chinese food and spooned out our meals. The aromas of spicy chicken, stir-fried scallops, and curried shrimp filled the kitchen. A wave of dread washed over me at the idea of defending Marisa Dupree in court tomorrow. Despite an impromptu meal with an attractive journalist, the hearing filled my thoughts. The case was only hours away.
Jennifer leaned her head to the side invitingly as she handed me a loaded plate. “There’s one thing we’re not going to do tonight, Bryce.”
“Oh, what’s that?”
“Talk about the Dupree case.” She picked up her own plate. “You need a break from all that, so you’re fresh in the morning.”
“Yeah. Good idea,” I said, knowing full well my mind would be occupied with the upcoming trial all evening.
She gave me a serious look. “If you think I’m still interested in your client for a story, well, that’s not why I’m here, okay?”
I studied her and smiled. “Not wearing your journalist hat for the evening?”
She smiled back. “Lost it on the way over.”
“Well, all right then. I won’t be a lawyer for the night. Let’s grab a seat. The food looks awesome.”
Jennifer glanced out the windows toward Pevensey Cove. “How about your back porch? The view of the bay is so lovely.”
“Kinda chilly out there,” I replied, hoping to dissuade her.
She laughed. “Won’t bother me, at least for a while.”
Scanning the area behind my house through the window, I unlocked and opened the door. “You Canadians. It must feel like summer to you here.”
We walked onto the back porch, carrying our dinners and chopsticks. No one else was outside, at least as far as I could see and hear in the surrounding darkness. Except for the kitchen door, I had locked all the other ways in and out of my house. Soft porchlight streamed over the dark grass. Jennifer and I sat at a glass patio table overlooking the Chesapeake Bay. A long column of shimmering moonlight reflected off the indigo waters could not pull my eyes away from her beauty.
I said, “You must like visiting the Eastern Shore?”
“Yeah, I do. Peaceful.” With a flirtatious smile, she arched an eyebrow. “Even though you almost killed me boating on Sunday.”
“Storms come up fast on the bay. What’re you
